


Carver and Merrill Go On A Picnic (Along With Everyone Else)

by hollyand



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Innuendo, Kissing, Light-Hearted, Picnics, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 06:38:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8239582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollyand/pseuds/hollyand
Summary: Written for the following prompt requests: “Carver crushing on Merrill, Merrill being obliviously adorable, and Hawke (preferably female) being a huge troll. Bonus points for Varric being Hawke’s backup troll. No smut for this one, just Carver and Merrill fumbling adorably around each other. Happy ending please!” In which Carver pines over Merrill, is really awkward about it, and the rest of the gang – especially Marian and Varric – tease him mercilessly.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chiarascura](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiarascura/gifts), [haraya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/haraya/gifts).



> I couldn't resist a good Carver/Merrill prompt though - or a couple of good prompts, I should say! - and I hope you don't mind me combining them and gifting to you both! 
> 
> (EDITED TO ADD: So... it turns out people might not understand what "baps" are...? Didn't realise it was solely a British thing. "Baps" are basically round flat breads like the ones that go either side of a burger, but in Britain "baps" are also slang for breasts. Damn British English, ensuring people on the internet don't understand my filthy jokes again. LOL)
> 
> Set during Act 1 of DA2. Hope you like it!

In hindsight, this had been a terrible idea. Carver’s attempts to ask out the cute elf girl had fallen horribly flat, as usual, and his sister had invited herself and all their friends on the picnic he’d tried to suggest at the Hanged Man in an attempt to get to know Merrill better.

‘So,’ Carver had mumbled, once he’d stopped blushing at being sat next to her and mustered up the courage to speak. ‘Um. Merrill. Do you—do you like picnics?’

‘Oh I _love_ picnics!’ she’d responded, smiling so enthusiastically Carver couldn’t help grinning back at her like an idiot. ‘But I didn’t realise humans had picnics too? I thought it was just a Dalish thing, you see…’

‘Um, no, we do, and I thought—I was just wondering…’ 

‘Perhaps we should take you on a picnic, Merrill,’ Marian had cut in, flashing an enormous grin at Carver, and Carver glared at his sister for getting there first.

‘Oh, I’d really like that!’ Merrill chirped, and Carver scowled as Marian and Varric nodded and smirked at each other. ‘Was that what you were going to ask, Carver? If all of us could go on a picnic?’

‘Um… no, not really,’ Carver began. ‘I mean— _yes_ , but—not like—’

‘Oh.’ Merrill had looked so downcast then, her beautiful green eyes so round and sad, that Carver had wanted to kick himself. ‘I was hoping you—well, never mind…’

‘Don’t worry, Merrill,’ Marian had cut in smoothly, and Merrill perked up a little at his sister’s soothing tone. ‘If Carver won’t invite you on a picnic, _I_ will. We’ll have a great time!’ 

So. That’s how _that_ happened. It was a few days after the Hanged Man incident, and Carver was preparing to go on a picnic with Merrill and the rest of their friends. Carver could only be thankful they hadn’t invited half of Kirkwall along with them—although judging by the mischievous glint in Marian’s blue eyes, they might as well have done.

Well. A simple picnic with their friends wasn’t too bad a result, Carver supposed, even if it wasn’t quite the result he’d hoped for. Of course, with Marian around, that was never going to go to plan—and their chosen location made things even worse.

‘Why the blighted Wounded Coast, of all places?’ Carver whined, as he stumbled behind Marian with his picnic basket, while Varric trotted along by her side. Merrill was talking to Isabela, while Fenris and Aveline were at the back of the group. Only Anders was walking with Carver, and neither of them so much as looked at each other, let alone spoke to each other; Anders himself seemed deep in thought. ‘Why not somewhere nicer?’

Marian shrugged. ‘I just thought it would be nice to get out of Kirkwall for a bit.’ She looked back over her shoulder then, throwing a cheeky smile at her brother. ‘Thought you’d find it somewhat _private_.’

‘How in blazes can I,’ muttered Carver to himself, ‘when you’ve invited everyone else to come along to witness me make a tit of myself.’

‘Pardon?’ Anders asked.

‘Nothing,’ Carver replied hastily.

‘I think this is a nice spot,’ Varric said, after a while. ‘Shall we settle down here?’

They spread out their picnic blankets and sat down; and Carver moved so fast to sit next to Merrill before Marian or Varric could, that he failed to notice Merrill had been moving in his direction—and he collided with her, hard.

‘Sorry!’ Carver said, reaching out, while Merrill sat down with a thump, her hand over one eye where she’d bumped into Carver’s shoulder. ‘Shit, I’m so sorry, Merrill, I didn’t mean to—’

‘Oh, it’s fine,’ Merrill said, in a shaky voice that sounded like she wasn’t fine at all. ‘I walked into your shoulder, I should be apologising, not you, I’m so sorry—’ 

Carver sat down next to her. ‘You don’t need to apologise. I didn’t see you there, I’m really sorry—’

‘Here, Merrill, let’s have a look at that,’ Marian said, examining Merrill’s face; Carver breathed a sigh of relief that Merrill was free of any sign of injury.

‘I’ll be fine,’ Merrill said quickly. ‘Just was a bit of a shock, that was all! Anyway. Shall we eat?’

Munching on their sandwiches at least proved a distraction for Carver, even if he wasn’t sure his nerves were alleviated by Merrill’s presence next to him. Marian and Varric were chatting about the forthcoming Deep Roads Expedition, while the others chimed in at intervals. Carver scratched the back of his neck, wondering what to say to Merrill, who was staring down at her own sandwiches, taking very small, timid, careful bites. 

 _She’s so pretty_ , he thought to himself, regarding the elf sitting cross-legged next to him. _She’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever met, and she has the most beautiful eyes, the cutest accent, she’s so chirpy and quirky and so optimistic that I can’t help smiling when she talks, and… shit. I just want to talk to her, but what do I say?_

If only he wasn’t so useless around girls he liked. Well—there had been Peaches, back in Ferelden; but that had been easier, somehow. Carver wasn’t even sure how he’d managed to succeed that time… but whatever had worked back then, he seemed to be far too tongue-tied to try it now.

‘Is your sandwich nice, Merrill?’

Startled, Merrill jumped and dropped her sandwich, and Carver inwardly winced. Trust him to make a ham out of it again.

Merrill picked up her sandwich from where she’d dropped it in her lap, placing the slices carefully back together before speaking to him. ‘It is nice,’ she answered, blushing and not looking at him. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘But you don’t have any meat between your baps,’ Carver began, before realising what he’d just said. ‘I mean—your _bread_ baps, obviously—’

Varric snorted, while Isabela sniggered and winked at Marian, who beamed. Oh no. This wouldn’t be good.

What I meant to say is,’ Carver carried on, determinedly ignoring them while his face burned, ‘well, I’ve got some spare bacon and I wondered—’

‘Carver was wondering if you would like some of his meat between your baps, Merrill,’ Marian filled in, with a completely straight face, while Isabela and Varric hooted with laughter.

‘Shut it, Sister,’ Carver hissed, but Marian was too busy giving Varric and Isabela high-fives while he and Merrill sat there.

‘I’ve missed something dirty again, haven’t I?’ Merrill asked innocently, although Carver could see, out of the corner of his eye, that her face was going as red as his. 

‘My sister’s clearly been hanging out with Isabela and Varric too much,’ Carver muttered, glaring at the three of them. He turned back to Merrill, who was staring at his sister and Isabela, puzzled by their mirth. ‘It—wasn’t anything dirty, Merrill, all I was offering—’

‘Daisy,’ Varric chortled, with a friendly smile at Merrill. ‘You don’t have to accept Carver’s meat if you don’t want to.’

‘Why would I not?’ Merrill chirruped. ‘It’s safe to eat, isn’t it? And I think my sandwich might be a little dull without any meat in it…’

‘I can’t think of _any_ sandwich that would be improved with Carver’s meat in it,’ Marian said, and Varric and Isabela howled with fresh laughter; even the others joined in at this point, and that just made it worse.

‘Shut up!’ Carver roared. ‘Just… why do you have to ruin everything? I was only trying to be nice, why did you have to turn it into—into—’

‘Ohhhhh,’ Merrill said wisely. ‘So it _was_ a dirty thing, after all.’

Silence fell over the group, save for a few snorts and sniggers. Carver glared at his picnic basket as he packed up his belongings ferociously. At least Marian now had the decency to look ashamed at Carver’s outburst. 

‘It wasn’t a dirty thing when _I_ was saying it,’ Carver mumbled. ‘I should—just go.’

‘Daisy,’ Varric said, voice reassuring, ‘I’ll explain when you’re older.’ 

‘Carver,’ Marian began plaintively, looking suitably chastised, ‘you can’t just leave. I think it’s a very nice idea to offer Merrill some bacon for her sandwich. Very… gentlemanly.’

‘I’m off,’ Carver said, making to stand up. He wanted to get home, anyway. Never had he felt more useless when talking to Merrill, and he’d been trying to ask her out for weeks. Ever since Marian had brought her back from the Sundermount, in fact. He couldn’t really explain it, or put his finger on why he liked her so much, he just—did.

She was... different. Not like a lot of other girls, and not just because she was an elf.

He wanted to get to know her better, that was all. And Merrill was utterly oblivious to all his attempts to ask her if they could hang out. Not that Marian ever helped with any of that. Maybe he should just give up, instead of continuing to fumble and mope around her like a fool.

‘Carver—’ Marian was standing up now, attempting to bar his way. ‘I’m sorry I teased you. I think you should at least give Merrill the bacon you offered her first, before you go.’

‘Merrill will be very disappointed,’ Varric added, as if to goad him, and Carver felt a sudden fleeting urge to punch him. ‘Won’t you, Daisy?’

Merrill didn’t answer at first. ‘Well,’ she eventually said, ‘if Carver doesn’t want to—I mean, meat is precious and expensive, and he might want to eat it later—’

‘You can have it,’ Carver grumbled. He crouched down and opened up his picnic basket, not looking at her. ‘Just take it.’

He virtually flung the strips of bacon at her, and Merrill took them, looking… a little hurt, if Carver wasn’t mistaken, although he hoped he was.

‘Thank you, Carver,’ she said, softly, and Carver felt ashamed of himself. However much his sister and Varric annoyed him, Merrill didn’t deserve him behaving like that towards her.

‘Hope you like it,’ he said, trying for a kinder, friendlier tone.

‘I’m sure I will,’ she said. ‘But—do you have to go?’

Carver sighed, and sat back down; his sister followed, and his face burned again as he realised how everyone was now looking at him, knowing smirks on their faces.

‘It does make my sandwich taste better, actually,’ Merrill said, her grateful voice finally breaking the awkward silence. ‘Thank you, Carver.’

Carver couldn’t help smiling at her, and she returned it; and she really was adorable, and she always made him smile, and no matter what he felt she always managed to cheer him up, even a little bit, and he wanted—

‘Honestly, you two,’ Marian sighed, exasperated. ‘How much longer do we have to watch my little brother making eyes at Merrill without doing anything about it?’

‘That’s not—’ Carver spluttered. ‘I didn’t mean—I wasn’t trying to—’

‘Oh, come off it, Carver,’ Marian rolled her eyes. ‘If we hadn’t invited ourselves along on the picnic you were trying to suggest to Merrill, I don’t think you’d have even got the words out of your mouth.’ 

‘I’d have done just fine, thank you very much,’ Carver retorted. ‘I don’t need your help.’

‘Junior,’ Varric drawled. ‘You’ve been trying and failing to ask Daisy here out since you met her.’

‘Is—is it true, Carver?’ Merrill asked, her voice small, her eyes wide.

‘No I wasn’t,’ Carver said, too quickly. ‘I mean—well, I—’

‘Oh.’ Merrill looked disappointed. ‘Because I—well, I was hoping you were.’

Silence.

‘So,’ Anders eventually said. ‘Lovely day for a picnic at the Wounded Coast, isn’t it?’ 

‘Quite,’ Aveline agreed, trying to hide a smirk.

‘ _Romantic_ , one would even say,’ Varric chimed in, with a shit-eating grin, while Fenris and Marian snorted.

‘Merrill,’ Carver said, desperate now, ‘shall we—shall we talk somewhere more private?’

A chorus of whoops arose as they both stood up; Carver made a rude gesture as he trailed behind Merrill, who led him behind some large boulders away from the others before immediately launching into conversation.

‘I—I’m _so_ sorry I said that,’ Merrill rambled, her cheeks going pink as she stared at his chest. ‘I don’t know what came over me, and if you didn’t want to ask me out _of course_ it’s fine, we’re already friends—or, well, I _hope_ we’re friends—and I don’t want to spoil that, and—’

‘I’d love to, Merrill,’ Carver breathed. ‘I mean, if you want to, of course, and—’

‘I’d like that,’ she said, lifting her eyes to his.

‘I—wow, I—’ Carver barked a laugh; he didn’t even know why he was laughing. ‘I had no idea you liked me, Merrill. I didn’t know you’d even noticed me. Especially with Marian around.’

‘I had no idea you liked me, either,’ she admitted. ‘I kept trying to sit next to you, but you always seemed so quiet when I tried to talk to you, and I didn’t know if you were shy or grumpy or if you didn’t like me—’

‘I _do_ like you,’ Carver said, astonished at how badly he’d given her the wrong idea all these weeks. ‘Maker, I _really_ like you. And I kept trying to sit next to you too, and—wow. I had no idea.’

‘Oh, for the love of the Maker, Carver,’ cried Marian’s voice, and Carver and Merrill whipped round in astonishment, ‘kiss her already!’

‘Piss off!’ Carver yelled, but it was without bite; Marian and Varric laughed good-humouredly, and Carver was about to join in with them when he felt a small hand touch his cheek and gently pull his face back round… and onto the softest lips that ever landed on his.

‘I’m sorry, was that too forward?’ Merrill asked, ending her shy peck on his lips almost as quickly as it began; but before she could say any more, Carver took her into his arms and returned her kiss.

‘No, it wasn’t,’ he murmured as they broke apart, while Merrill giggled nervously and slid her own arms round him. ‘It was perfect. Just like you.’

He bent down to kiss her again, to drink her in properly this time, and it was dizzying and intoxicating and wonderful… and _almost_ worked in drowning out the laughing cheers of their friends, led by Marian and Varric, who were now surrounding them.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hello at [hollyand-writes.tumblr.com](http://hollyand-writes.tumblr.com)!


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